


Contrition

by TinaCentury



Category: Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon | Pretty Guardian Sailor Moon, Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon | Pretty Guardian Sailor Moon (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, F/M, Fall Vibes, Mutual Pining, Sailor Moon R: Makaiju Arc
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-05
Updated: 2019-11-05
Packaged: 2021-01-23 09:36:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21318028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TinaCentury/pseuds/TinaCentury
Summary: It's been seven years since the battle with Queen Beryl. When a new threat appears, what if Mamoru is the only one who gets all of his memories back? An angsty, pining-heavy canon divergence AU written for FloraOne for the 2019 Fall in Love fanwork exchange.
Relationships: Chiba Mamoru/Tsukino Usagi
Comments: 5
Kudos: 69
Collections: UsaMamo Fanwork Exchange 2k19





	Contrition

**Author's Note:**

  * For [FloraOne](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FloraOne/gifts).

> I can’t tell you how excited I am to have written this story for my lovely friend FloraOne as a part of antigone2/idesofnovember's 2019 Fall in Love exchange. I was pretty sure Flora had figured me out a while ago, but then the other day she seemed absolutely convinced that she didn’t know the person writing for her. So, surprise? Also, apologies for lying through my teeth about what I was writing and being weirdly recalcitrant to brainstorm (really, it’s my own fault for mentioning offhand to her that I needed to brainstorm at all). 
> 
> Anyway, I hope this is able to give her even a fraction of the joy all of her work has given so many of us. 
> 
> A few thank yous:  
-To Kasienda, whose live reading of my Google doc, enthusiastic reactions and valuable, constructive feedback kept me going, especially during my moments of rather panicked doubt.  
-To UglyGreenJacket, who helped me with reconnaissance on this from day 1 and let me pick her brain about Flora’s likes and dislikes.  
-To QueenRisa, for sending me a questionnaire Flora filled out for an exchange that happened before I was even involved in the fandom. Between info from you and UGJ, I literally had a checklist of “things Flora likes” that I was marking off as I wrote.  
-To FloraOne herself, who hopefully didn’t realize she was giving me writing advice on something I was writing for her. And also for her detailed notes on the Japanese medical school system in one of her 11 Hours ANs.  
-Finally, to Antigone2/IdesofNovember for organizing this exchange. These events are so fun and motivating, and I appreciate the work you put into them! 
> 
> So without further ado, this is an aged-up canon divergence AU. You may notice some…similarities here, but I don’t want to spoil anything. There’s a note at the bottom with my thoughts on this. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy. Honestly, I wish I had had a little bit more time to really polish this up, but I’m leaving on a work trip tomorrow morning and needed to get this out before then, so go easy on me? Please let me know what you think! 
> 
> One more thing. Flora, if you’re reading this, go check your messages before continuing ;).

It was unseasonably warm for autumn. A burst of heat rose from the concrete and permeated the metro train as its doors swished open at Aoyama-Itchome Station. Mamoru Chiba closed his eyes as people made their way on and off the train, leaning back against the glass window behind him.   
  
It had been an exhausting day.   
  
Keio University’s Yatsuya Festival, an annual event hosted by the School of Medicine, was coming up in a few weeks, and Mamoru had somehow gotten roped onto the student planning committee. He scowled, remembering Kobayashi’s toothy grin when he had approached him just yesterday, his promises of “It won’t distract from your studies”, and “I’ll be right there doing it with you.”  
  
Mamoru had planned to follow Saori’s lead and politely decline, but once the rest of the student committee got word that Kobayashi had asked _Mamoru_, the same Mamoru who had taken a year off in between high school and university to because he’d been invited to do research in a lab at _Harvard_, he didn’t stand a chance. The committee’s faculty advisor had practically cornered him in a hallway in between classes, falling all over herself with gratitude after hearing from Kobayashi that Mamoru was fully committed to the festival’s success.  
  
And so Mamoru had spent today trying not to be annoyed with Kobayashi’s tendency to over embellish and commit people to things without their consent. Instead of studying for his upcoming pharmacology exam like he’d planned, he’d spent hours emailing different university offices and local vendors about available lecture halls, catering options, and AV equipment.   
  
Event planning was surprisingly tiring, he thought vaguely, beginning to drift off at the lulling combination of the train’s rhythmic rumbling and thick, stifling warmth.   
  
“You’ll miss your stop if you fall asleep like that.”  
  
Mamoru’s eyes shot open at the unmistakably bubbly voice, and there she was, sitting next to him.   
  
Usagi Tsukino.   
  
The girl he had spent most of his late high school years mercilessly teasing, just to see the fire in her blue-eyed glare, the righteous indignation in her crossed arms, the flush on her cheeks.   
  
Seven years ago, Usagi had come barreling into his life with an atrocious test paper that had hit him on the head.  
  
It had taken him a year to realize he was in love with her.  
  
He was in love with her ebullience and enthusiasm and unapologetic ability to _just be herself_, and the way she had cast a bright, blazing kaleidoscope of color into his world.  
  
The day he had realized it, she hadn’t noticed him.   
  
Mamoru had been reading on his favorite bench in Amishiro Park when he’d suddenly heard her voice.   
  
“My name’s Usagi! It’s ok to cry. But hey, I have a fun idea! Do you want to go down the slide with me?” She was kneeling by the swing set, her hair glinting in the sunlight, as she comforted a small, sniffling child whom Mamoru had a sneaking suspicion she hadn’t known before her walk home from school.   
  
A lump formed in his throat as he watched them eventually make their way to the slide laughing together, memories of his own lonely days on the swing set at the orphanage swirling through his mind.   
  
He had realized then that Usagi could be the one to chase away his loneliness.   
  
But he’d never made a move. She was bubbly and friendly and genuinely interested in everyone around her. He was a surly, negative, boring loner. He wasn’t enough for her.   
  
He could have apologized to her for all the teasing things he’d said. He’d seen her kindness, and knew she’d forgive him instantly. But he hadn’t wanted to be just anyone to her. So, he’d kept teasing her. He’d teased about her hair, her grades, her eating habits, her schoolgirl crush on Motoki. He’d teased her just so she would plant all of her undivided attention on him.   
  
Some of the things he’d said to her in his youth made him cringe now.  
  
He’d almost gotten the courage to tell her once, at one of Motoki’s parties after he’d had far too much to drink. He’d just gotten back from Harvard and was leaning against the wall unsteadily, watching Usagi jump and sing at the top of her lungs on the dance floor.   
  
He’d thought going to Harvard after high school would help him get over his feelings for her, since he knew she’d never have him. Maybe he could try to meet someone else. But that night, when he saw her for the first time in a year, he knew for certain there would never be anyone else.   
  
She’d bounced up to him, bobbing along to the music and pouting. “Baka, this is a party. You’re supposed to be having fun, not being a wallflower.”  
  
His judgment impaired by the alcohol, he’d let her pull him out onto the dance floor and swayed in time to the music with her.  
  
It was one of his favorite memories.   
  
Usagi’s body pressed up against him. Her small hand in his. Her hair tickling his skin as they spun and dipped, her sweet vanilla scent seizing his senses.   
  
He’d almost kissed her then. He’d leaned closer to her, ready to confess just how far gone he was over her and press his lips to hers, when his stomach turned at the clear fear he saw reflected in her eyes.   
  
It had crushed him, and he’d instead drawn her to him in what he hoped was a friendly hug and thanked her for the dance.   
  
That was four years ago. They’d grown up since then. Mamoru was in his fourth year of medical school at Keio, and Usagi was working for a manga company. They didn’t see each other as often as they used to, and, when they did, their relationship had more of a back and forth, friendly teasing banter rather than the vitriol it once did.   
  
But Mamoru’s feelings had never wavered.  
  
Usagi had gone through a few boyfriends over the years, and each one killed Mamoru with jealousy. They were all loud, gregarious, life-of-the-party types. He had seen the type of guy Usagi went for. It wasn’t him.  
  
He turned to her on the metro. “Well, then it’s a good thing I have you here to keep me awake, Odango,” he drawled, trying to ignore the _thump thump thump_ in his chest as the fabric of her wrap dress brushed against his knee.  
  
She crossed her arms, but her smile remained. “Hmph. That’s assuming I would wake you up and not leave you going all the way to Tochomae.”

“You and I both know you’re far too nice to do that, even to me.”

“Maybe. But I’d still stay awake if I were you, just to be sure.” 

Like he’d ever be able to fall asleep with her next to him.

“Are you just getting off work, then?” Mamoru hated himself for his awkwardness, the stilted nature of his question. When he was around Usagi, it was apparently either incessant teasing or stupid small talk. That, or terrifying her with an attempted kiss. 

“Yep! Long day.”

There was a long, pregnant pause between them. Mamoru opened his mouth to speak again as the train started to slow down on its approach into Azabu-juban Station. But Usagi stood up too soon, before the train had come to a complete stop, and a jolt of electricity shot through Mamoru’s palm as he reached out to steady her by the waist so she wouldn’t fall.

“Thanks,” she muttered.

He nodded mutely in acknowledgement, knowing even that small touch he’d just been granted would keep him up at night for days. 

They exited the station in silence, Mamoru squinting in the late afternoon sunlight as they emerged. 

“Well, I’m that way.” Usagi nodded her head in the direction opposite from his apartment. Of course, he knew that. She’d moved in with her friend Minako last year. 

“Odango...,” he began, biting his lip. 

It should have been easy. _Just ask her if she’d like to get a drink_. They’d walk around the corner to a nearby izakaya and he’d happily watch her eat her weight in food, each little moan that she made driving him crazy. It could have been the start of something. And the look on her face right now was almost hopeful?

But then Mamoru remembered the terrified look in her eyes that night at Motoki’s when his breath had been centimeters from her lips and his palm had curled onto the small of her back, and he thought better of it. 

“Have a nice evening,” he murmured, before turning on his heel and walking toward his apartment. 

Later that night, Mamoru fell asleep on his open pharmacology textbook. He jerked awake around three in the morning, wincing as he pried his cheek from the thick, stiff pages. 

He stumbled into the bathroom, dazed and bleary-eyed. He didn’t register that the source of his rousing had been a bright flash of light and a loud crash nearby. He collapsed into bed, completely unaware of the large crowd forming around a huge crater in the road a few streets over. 

* * *

Early the next evening, Mamoru stood to stretch after a long day of studying, his back cracking with a loud pop as he lifted his arms over his head.

And then he couldn’t help the strangled cry that flew from his lips as a sharp, agonizing spasm gnawed at his skull and made him collapse on his knees on the carpet. A hot, urgent demand wrenched at his soul and pulled at his heart, and, barely cognizant of what he was doing, he somehow conjured a rose out of thin air. 

It all flooded back to him in a shocking wave that made him choke and gasp, memories wrapping around his psyche like the perfectly-tailored tuxedo that formed around him like a second skin. 

The Silver Millennium. 

The Starlight Tower. 

The Dark Kingdom. 

Serenity. Sailor Moon. _Usagi_. 

She _loved_ him. 

He protected her.

He betrayed her.

He died for her. _Again_. 

_Usagi_. 

It was too much, but one feeling stood out among all the others—fear. But it wasn’t his. And that brought everything into sharp focus. 

_Go to her. _

Tuxedo Mask leapt from building to building with practiced ease, each thud of his feet on the rooftops punctuated by another memory that flooded his senses. He needed to see her. He needed to be there for her. He needed her.

He somehow knew where to stop, his heart pounding in his ears as he assessed the scene on the street below. 

Sailor Moon was squaring off against a giant purple and green youma. “Vampir!” it screeched, flashing a sadistic, sharp-toothed grin as it lunged for her. Her eyes were narrowed and her cheeks were flushed as she tried to dodge the huge flower on the end of the monster’s hand, her endless pigtails whipping wildly in the breeze. 

But she wasn’t fast enough. 

A long orange tentacle shot from the flower and snaked around Sailor Moon’s ankle, and she let out a pained grunt as she thudded onto the pavement face-down. Her tortured scream pierced the night air and echoed terrifyingly in Mamoru’s ears as her entire body began to glow pink, her energy being stolen from her. 

With an angry growl, he hurled a rose at the youma tentacle that held her prisoner. The monster howled in pain, loosening its grip and giving Sailor Moon enough leverage to wriggle free. She looked around wildly, not thinking to look up. 

“Sailor Moon!” he shouted “Now!” 

Her confused look was immediately replaced with the determined, powerful one of the warrior she was as she reached for her tiara. 

“Moon Tiara Action!” 

The adrenaline was still pumping through his veins as Tuxedo Mask jumped down from the rooftop and landed noiselessly on the pavement below. His heart was beating wildly in his chest, too many emotions vying for his attention. Awe at the powerful woman in front of him. Fear for her safety. Relief that she was ok. And joy. Joy that he’d get to be with his love, finally. 

A crisp leaf crunched under his foot as he approached, and she whirled around, framed by the streetlight she stood under. He wanted to run to her, take her in his arms and hold her like he hadn’t been able to in a millennium. Instead, he walked toward her slowly, palms clammy beneath his gloves.

He licked his lips as he stopped in front of her, searching her blue eyes. There was so much they had to say to each other--so much lost time to make up for. 

“Sailor Moon,” he murmured, lips curling into a smile. “Welcome back.” 

She smiled shyly at him, her brow furrowed, a faint blush staining her cheeks. “Thank you very much for your help.” 

He frowned. Why was she being so formal? And since when was Usagi shy? 

He stepped closer, nearly closing the distance between them, and reached down to gently stroke her hair. “Usagi…” he whispered. 

She immediately jumped back from him in shock. “H-how do you know my name?”

He recoiled, confused. “Usagi...Sailor Moon...it’s me. Mam--” 

A flash of orange cut him off, and he suddenly found himself facing narrowed cornflower-blue eyes. “Who are you?” Sailor Venus demanded as she stood between them, arms crossed menacingly in front of her. “What do you want with Sailor Moon?”

His eyes flew from Sailor Venus’ glare to Sailor Moon behind her. He beseechingly searched her eyes, desperate to find any flicker of recognition there, but was met only with uncertainty, and, to his horror, fear. 

He ran. 

* * *

Tuxedo Mask collapsed onto his couch, leaning forward and breathing heavily, his head clutched in his hands. He couldn’t get the look on Sailor Moon’s face out of his mind. 

She didn’t know who he was. 

The panic rose up in his gut, his breaths suddenly short and shallow. He closed his eyes, trying to steady himself as the green and tan hues of his living room had begun to swim dizzyingly around him. It had all immediately clicked into place for him. His transformation. His memories. Their battle routine. How naive he had been to think it would have been the same for her. 

A breeze rustled through his still-open curtains and he let out a surprised yelp as something landed in his lap. When he opened his eyes, he was met with a piercing auburn-eyed stare. 

Luna. He remembered her now. He remembered leaping over a metal barrier in front of the Crown years ago, just barely whisking her away from a speeding semi truck. He remembered being dimly aware of her tears that day in the Starlight Tower. 

And he remembered, long before any of that, Luna catching him and Princess Serenity in a heated embrace in her chambers. Luna had reluctantly helped them keep their secret. Her love for Serenity had outweighed her sense of duty, and Luna had become a bit of a mother figure to Endymion as well.

“Mamoru-san,” Luna said in her small voice.

Mamoru let of whoosh of relief as his tuxedo shimmered around him and disappeared, leaving him in the same black sweatpants and white t-shirt he’d been dressed in earlier that evening. 

He mustered a smile. “Hello, Luna.” 

Her unblinking gaze was still fixed on him. “Mamoru-san, how much do you remember?” she asked, her tone businesslike. 

Mamoru swallowed. “I remember everything…” he struggled to find the words to explain. “Earlier tonight...probably around seven...I felt her. The way I used to. It all came back to me at once. The Moon Kingdom. Queen Beryl. Usagi.” His voice cracked. “Luna, what happened?” 

Luna jumped down from Mamoru’s lap and began pacing across his cream-colored carpet. “That’s about the time I had to restore her memories. Artemis and I just weren’t strong enough…” Luna hung her head. “It killed me to do it...remembering her last wish, even all these years later.” 

“Her last wish?” 

“After the battle with Queen Beryl, Usagi wished to be a normal girl. No reborn royalty. No superheroes. No battles. The ginzuishou granted her wish. That’s why you were all able to come back and live ordinary lives. And it’s been peaceful ever since. Until now.” 

Mamoru sighed. He remembered Serenity yearning for normalcy in their past lives, too, when their warring kingdoms and Beryl’s rise to power had further threatened their secret romance. More than anything, she had wanted them to be able to love each other freely, marry, grow old together. 

“I thought that at least remembering you and realizing you can be together now…. I thought that would take away some of the pain. But…” Luna looked away from him guiltily. “She doesn’t.” 

Mamoru had known that as soon as Sailor Moon had jumped away from him, but hearing it from Luna somehow made it feel worse.

“She doesn’t remember me at all”? And he hated himself for the small hope that still rose up in him, despite all the evidence that it shouldn’t. 

Luna shook her head sadly. “No. None of them do. As far as they know, there’s no connection between Mamoru Chiba and the Sailor Senshi.” 

Luna’s words echoed in his ears as he tightly gripped the couch, trying to brace himself. Mamoru was used to being the one who didn’t remember. That had been his whole life. But he’d never even considered the other side of that coin. 

Him not remembering, he could deal with. But others not remembering him? The team he was destined to fight with? The woman he loved? His heart sank in his chest at the realization that he would always be an outsider to them.

“I’m so sorry, Mamoru-san. All I can think is that, for some reason, the ginzuishou has repressed their memories of you. It’s almost as if Usagi subconsciously willed it to protect herself. Though why she’d need to protect herself from you is unclear.” 

Luna’s words rang in Mamoru’s ears, and a wave of nausea rolled through his stomach. Why Usagi would need to protect herself from him.

He knew why. 

Luna hadn’t been there.

None of them had been there, when his hands had wrapped tightly around her throat, when his black roses had pierced her skin, when he’d been under Beryl’s command and tortured her. 

He had almost killed her. That’s why she needed to protect herself from him. 

The realization cut through his heart, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes. She didn’t want to remember him because of what he’d done to her. And he didn’t blame her. 

Luna looked at him curiously, but, to his relief, didn’t press him for more information. “Her memories could still come back. And I’ve told the team you’re not an enemy; that you’re a former ally of the Moon Kingdom. They’ll accept your help.”

That was a slight relief, at least. 

“Usagi, in particular.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“You’ve always given her strength, Mamoru-san. Tuxedo Mask can still do that for Sailor Moon.” 

With his dying breath all those years ago, he had promised Serenity he would find his way back to her. He had never considered that she wouldn’t want him to. 

Mamoru smiled weakly, knowing it wasn’t reaching his eyes, trying to ignore the heartbreak that was threatening to overpower him. She didn’t want to be with him. 

But he’d be there for her in every other way. 

* * *

There was a battle almost every other day for the next two weeks—at the TV station Mamoru had worked at part-time his first year of university, at a virtual reality game facility, at a daycare center. They learned that their enemy was an alien couple hellbent on collecting energy from humans for an as-of-yet-undisclosed purpose. 

Tuxedo Mask was there for all of them. His heart twisted painfully in his chest every time he watched Sailor Moon sharply rebuke her adversaries with her signature speech, her focused eyes never wavering even when he _felt_ her fear. Terror gripped him every time she put herself in harm’s way to protect the innocent civilians who inevitably got caught in the battle’s crosshairs. And his tongue would stick to the roof of his mouth in awe every time she destroyed a monster with her sparkly pink powerful magic. 

He tried to convince himself that his presence was helpful, that the small moments of distraction his roses and poetry provided were important enough to change the course of a fight. But he knew deep down that, even if he could be somewhat useful, she didn’t need him. She was too powerful to need him. 

The senshi had accepted him, to an extent, but they still kept him at arm’s length. After each encounter, they’d nod at him in acknowledgement before jumping away. He still felt like an outsider looking in. And he felt that way the most around Sailor Moon. 

Before he’d remembered everything, his feelings for Usagi had been a dull ache. Most of the time, he could distract himself enough to function. But remembering made it so much worse—a constant inferno that roared in his chest and threatened to send his entire body up in flames any time she threw a glance in his direction. 

He could hardly breathe, his throat constricting painfully, the one time he’d jumped down and scooped her up and out of the way of an incoming projectile. He’d nearly moaned at the familiar weight of her in his arms, the scent of her hair wafting up to his nostrils, a constant chorus of _she doesn’t want you_ _she doesn’t want you_ echoing in his mind. 

Was it destined to be like this forever? Him having two lifetimes of memories that finally made sense, and her, looking up at him with wide, confused eyes and stammering words. 

As a prince, he’d fallen in love with Princess Serenity.   
As a high school student, he’d fallen in love with Usagi Tsukino. 

They were the same, but different. He saw the Serenity he remembered in Usagi’s laughter, her beauty, her bravery. But if anything, growing up as a regular girl in Tokyo had allowed her to more freely be herself—the self she used to show only to him and her closest friends. The self that didn’t have to adhere to royal decorum and could enjoy life’s pleasures without abandon, the self that was klutzy and loud and cried too often and loved too much. 

But he wasn’t the same. Prince Endymion never had a problem showing affection. Prince Endymion hadn’t grown up an orphan with no memories of his childhood. Prince Endymion had teased her, but never with the type of acerbic insults Mamoru did. He couldn’t fault her for not remembering him. Why would she want the burden of an ancient lover who happened to be reborn an asshole?

It seemed that his fate, his punishment for the heinous things he’d done to her in the more recent past, was to only be allowed a small corner of her heart, where she appreciated him as a fellow soldier and nothing else, while she still had and would always have all of his. 

Maybe if he told himself enough, he could forget what it felt like to know she once loved him. 

* * *

“Endymion.” His name came out on a moan, and he couldn’t help the smirk on his face as he continued trailing hot, wet kisses down Serenity’s throat, his palms cupped around her waist, the electricity of forbidden love crackling beneath his fingertips as they gripped the skin beneath her thin gown.

He pressed her more firmly against the stone wall, warm candlelight casting shadows throughout the cool, narrow hallway.

“It’s safe here, my love,” he murmured against her ear. “No one will find us.” 

She responded by fisting her hands in his hair and guiding his lips to crush against hers once more, and he happily obliged, lips trembling as she dove her tongue into his mouth. She was intoxicating, all endless hair and pale pale skin that shone like the moonlight. Endymion let out a groan as she took his bottom lip between her teeth and gently sucked, letting his hands roam freely up and down her back, her breasts, her bottom. 

She was a goddess, and not for the first time, he wondered why she was willing to have him. 

“Serenity,” he whispered. “I love you.” 

* * *

Mamoru shot up in bed gasping. The dreams had started the night he’d remembered everything. Some of them, like the one he’d just woken up from, were passionate expositions of their past life romance.

Others were tamer in their execution, but no less worse in their torture. Her lying peacefully asleep in his arms, her smooth, pale skin a stark contrast against his dark sheets. Him tying his fingers with hers and watching her wide-eyed amazement every time she absconded to Elysian for another taste of its greenery and natural wonders. 

There were dreams of the more recent past, too. The time they had sat in Yumeno Yumemi’s cozy house and he’d first noticed how endearingly adorable Usagi could be. That day in the Starlight Tower elevator, before they knew everything, when he somehow felt more comfortable around her than he had around anyone in years despite the situation’s danger, and the words had come tumbling out of his mouth and he’d told her all about his past. 

Gritting his teeth, he got up and padded into his kitchen, forcing himself to take deep breaths as he held a glass under the tap. 

Time was now split into three. 

The moments they’d had so many years ago, him completely unaware that the superhero he fought alongside, the same one who took his breath away in every battle, was the same girl he’d run into on the streets who made his pulse race and his emotions inexplicably bubble up and out around her. 

The past seven years, when their memories had been erased and there had been no Sailor Moon and no Tuxedo Mask and he’d fallen in love with her all the same. 

And now, when he remembered everything and she did not. 

The thought crashed into him like an overpowering wave, the way it always did, even after weeks of knowing. _She doesn’t remember you. She doesn’t want to remember you._

The water in the glass he was holding splashed onto his tile floor as his hand shook and the tears started to fall. 

* * *

The weather was finally starting to turn. Shades of red and gold crept onto green leaves. Those that had already curled, brown and crisp, floated off of branches and crunched underfoot. Mamoru buttoned his coat to shield himself against the chilled breeze as he walked toward Keio’s Mita campus. 

Most of his classes and activities had been on Keio’s Shinanomachi campus since his second year of medical school, but he preferred studying at Mita when he could. He’d found the perfect study space in a corner of the gothic red brick main library’s top floor his first year, and he was nothing if not a creature of habit. Besides, it was closer to his apartment. 

He’d somehow managed to convince Kobayashi and the rest of the festival planning committee to meet him there for their final meeting before the event next week. 

Mamoru was just about to turn into Keio’s imposing red brick and stone East Gate when he let out a hiss of pain as something solid landed on his head. His eyes widened as they fell to the leather ankle boot that had landed next to him.

_There’s no way. _

He turned around in a sort of daze. 

“Oh my god!” Usagi shouted, half running, half hopping up to him, weaving through the crowd of people passing by as she unsteadily tried to keep her one stocking-clad foot off of the sidewalk. 

She slowed as she approached Keio’s gate and winced as her eyes met his. “Mamoru-baka! I’m so so sorry!”

Mamoru didn’t respond, just knelt to pick the shoe up.

She didn’t remember that this had happened before. He did. 

She’d been a rash fourteen-year-old and he’d been a moody teenager. He’d screamed at her in frustration and annoyance then, not self-aware enough to realize what seeing her all red-faced and riled up did to him. 

“Hey!” Usagi waved her arms wildly in front of him. “Are you ok?”

His eyes flew from the shoe to her face. He’d had years of practice staying calm around her before, but this was the first time he’d seen her as Usagi since everything had come flooding back to him. A sweat broke out on the back of his neck despite the chill as he took in the concern in her gaze, the flutter of her pigtails in the afternoon breeze. 

He mentally shook himself, snapping out of his trance. But he couldn’t stop the words that flew out of his mouth. “What are you trying to decide this time?”

Usagi’s mouth dropped open into a little ‘o’. “How did you know that’s what I was doing?”

_Shit. _

The smooth, emotionless mask he’d honed for most of his life slipped onto his features, and he attempted a careless shrug. “It’s just something I’ve seen crazy middle schoolers do before.” He smirked at her. “It seems like something you would have done back then, too.” 

She rolled her eyes, but seemingly accepted his answer, and plopped onto the low stone wall behind them. 

Satisfied that he had successfully gotten them to fall back into their old patterns and Usagi to suspect nothing was amiss, Mamoru sat down next to her. 

His mistake was looking down at her. 

The late afternoon sunlight bathed her in its glow, and the thoughts of her that had been constantly churning in the back of his mind surged to the surface. His eyes flitted from the barely-there tendrils of hair that curled beneath her ears to her full and pink lips, and his throat ran dry at the memory of knowing how _soft_ everything about her was. 

However, he couldn’t help the slight downturn of his lips as he noticed something else. Up close like this, he could see the toll weeks of fighting had taken on her. The skin under her eyes was dark and puffy, and there were shades of sadness beneath the mirth that usually danced on her face. 

He understood it then. 

He understood why she hadn’t wanted to remember not just him, but any of it. No fourteen-year-old girl should have had to face the horrors she had. No twenty-one-year-old woman should have to face the ones that were certain to come. Especially not Usagi, with her innocence and purity and deep desire for everyone to love each other the way she loved them.

It was unfathomably unfair that _she_ had been chosen to fight.

But the very things that made it unfair were the same things that made her the best person for the job. 

More than anything, Mamoru ached to pull her close to him, to give her all his strength and then some, but he forced himself to hold back. 

If he couldn’t be there for her the way he yearned to, he could at least show her he cared. She was a princess-—his princess—and she deserved to be treated like the most important person in the universe. Because to him, she was. 

Usagi reached for her boot, but looked at Mamoru quizzically when he wouldn’t relinquish it. A crooked smile pulled at his lips as he got down on one knee in front of where she sat, her shoe still in his hand. 

Her cheeks blazed red as she realized his intentions. “Mamoru-san! I can put on a shoe by myself!” 

“I’ve seen you have klutz attacks that would suggest otherwise, Odango”. 

Gently, he pulled her foot onto his knee, her mustard yellow tights a bright contrast against his dark blue jeans. His heart hammering in his chest, he marveled at how small, how delicate her foot was, all the while knowing the extraordinary amount of power she held in just her pinky toe.

His fingertips grazed the bottom of her calf, sending a cascade of goosebumps down his arms as he slowly slipped the boot onto her foot. He looked back up at her, hair falling into his eyes. “There you go,” he whispered. 

For a moment, she didn’t move her foot from its perch on his knee and just stared back at him. Her cerulean gaze pierced right through him, and he feared for a moment that his emotions were laid bare on his face for her to see. 

Then a tinny, musical ringing cut through the air, making them both jump and Usagi slide her foot back down onto the sidewalk. Mamoru nervously ran his hand through his hair as he answered his cell phone.

“Sorry, Kobayashi. I’ll be right there.” 

* * *

Tuxedo Mask jumped down from his perch on a tree branch, his cape fluttering behind him. Minutes ago, the weirdly toga-clad youma with vulture’s wings had disappeared in a sparkly powerful flash. Sailor Moon had been remarkable, as always. 

It was that strange, still time before night fully transitioned to day, when the streets were still silent and the city was still bathed in darkness, but small slivers of orange light had begun to creep up on the horizon. 

As if fate hadn’t been cruel enough to him, this particular battle had been in Amishiro Park-—that small green and gray space tucked away within the streets of Juuban that was altogether unremarkable. 

Except for the fact that it was where he’d first realized his feelings for Usagi. 

In the heat of the battle, he’d been able to shove his emotions aside and focus-—focus on protecting her, focus on distracting the youma, focus on helping her win. But now?

He slowly made his way to the red and blue swing set, images of a fifteen-year-old Usagi kneeling and comforting a small child flickering through his mind. He squeezed his eyes shut, clenching his fists at his sides. 

“Do you always stick around afterwards?” 

His eyes shot open and there she was, sitting on one of the metal railings across from the swings, her giant blue eyes looking up at him curiously. She was still transformed into Sailor Moon, and he couldn’t help his sharp intake of breath. He hadn’t been alone with Sailor Moon since that first night, the night he’d assumed she’d remembered and he’d called her Usagi and his new, excruciating reality had begun. 

He licked his lips. “No, I don’t...I just…”

_I just needed a moment to remember the afternoon I realized I was in love with you._

“Do you?” he threw her own question back at her stupidly.

“I don’t”. She faltered for a second, glancing at her lap as one gloved hand began to fidget with the other. “I…wanted to talk to you.” She looked back up at him and a soft smile lit up her features. “We fight together, but I don’t know anything about you. And you know...a lot about me. I’d like us to be...friends.”

He should have seen this coming, knowing her as well as he did. She radiated love and light, and had always had a way of coaxing herself into everyone’s heart. She had done it to him as a pampered, dutiful prince. She had done it to him as a churlish, damaged orphan. Of course she would also try to do it with him as a superhero, especially one who fought alongside her. 

It might be easier on him if he still tried to keep his distance from her, aware of how painful even their brief interactions were now. But he’d never been able to say no to that hope-filled expression on her face. 

He swallowed. “Ok,” he whispered. “Let’s be friends.” 

* * *

He looked like a lost little boy, standing in front of her in the park. It had been subtle, but a micro expressive war had raged on his face when she’d asked to be his friend. Usagi could tell he was fighting against something inside of him.

Nothing about him added up. An ally of the Moon Kingdom that none of them remembered? Someone who knew her identity but whom she had no memory of? Something clawed at the back of her mind every time she was around him, something that made her feel like she was on the brink of figuring out something so so crucial. 

There was also...something about him. Her eyes flickered from his impossibly long, lean legs, to the firm set of his jawline, to the white mask that obscured his eyes, and her heart gave a little skip.

_You’re attracted to him_.

He was handsome and mysterious, and seemed singularly focused on her. His weapon of choice was _red roses_, for God’s sake. He was a fantasy brought to life. 

But someone else had tattooed himself onto her heart years ago. Someone who she didn’t realize how much she missed until he’d flown across the world and away from her for a year.

So why could she almost hear her heart thumping wildly in her chest every time she was around Tuxedo Mask? Why did his touch send shivers over her body and make her stomach flip in excitement? When had she become so fickle in love? 

“I was trying to decide something earlier today,” she blurted out. 

His eyebrows shot up, his expression unreadable. “And?” he prompted. “Were you successful? 

She frowned. “No. It ended up making things more confusing.” 

She’d been trying to decide what to do about her longstanding feelings for Mamoru and her newfound attraction to Tuxedo Mask.

The heat rose in her cheeks as she thought of Mamoru’s tender touch, his near-reverence as he’d helped her with her shoe. 

Mamoru had almost kissed her once, not long after she had realized she was in love with him. Their bodies had been pressed together on the dance floor at Motoki’s, and he’d leaned in with obvious intention.

But then she’d realized they were both drunk, and she couldn’t bear to be just an alcohol-driven hookup for him. The thought of a kiss meaning nothing to him when it would have meant everything to her was _terrifying_. She’d been both disappointed and relieved when he’d pulled away and hugged her instead. 

But her feelings for him had never wavered. 

That afternoon she’d run into Mamoru on the metro, there had been a moment where she’d thought, or maybe irrationally hoped, that he was going to ask her on a date. But then he’d wished her a good evening and walked off to his apartment.

It was embarrassing, how crushed she’d been. 

She’d trudged home and Minako later found her crying into her pillow. Usagi had never told any of her friends how she felt about Mamoru, afraid that it was such a fragile secret that it might break if it was ever uttered. Or that they’d give her those soft, pitying smiles before encouraging her to try to find someone else. 

And then she’d met Tuxedo Mask. Someone else who made her feel the same way she did around Mamoru. Usually, Usagi was someone who had no trouble following her heart. So why was her heart equally leading her to two different people? 

Frustrated with herself after weeks of obsessing over them both, she’d gotten desperate and fallen back on her tried-and-true middle school decision-making process. Ignoring the fact that she was a twenty-one-year-old adult, she’d flung her shoe off her foot and down the street, ignoring the curious and judgmental looks she got from the people who passed. If it landed face-up, she’d try to give up on Mamoru and pursue Tuxedo Mask. If it landed face-down, she’d forget Tuxedo Mask and accept that she’d forever be pining over Mamoru. 

She hadn’t accounted for the possibility of it landing on one of the subjects’ heads. And if _that _wasn’t a sign from the universe, then what was? 

But Tuxedo Mask was standing in front of her, his black hair ruffled by the early morning breeze. He was looking down at her, and something about him just looked so vulnerable and so _sexy_.

She pushed herself off the metal railing, leaned up to him purposefully, and planted her lips on his. 

* * *

He should have stopped her. He should have immediately pushed her away and muttered an excuse. 

She had no idea about the depth of his feelings for her. She didn’t need him the way he needed her. This was going to be like pouring gasoline onto the fire that blazed deep within his heart. It was going to make everything worse. 

But when her lips where finally, _finally_ where he’d ached for them to be for years, there was no way in hell he was letting go. He’d deal with the consequences later, as long as right now, he could keep feeling her soft lips pressed to his 

She started to pull away, and every muscle in his body screamed at the small separation. She gasped a little as his arms came around her waist, anything to feel her, to keep her close to him. And then his lips were back on hers, trembling and wet and desperate for her sweet, heady, taste. 

He whimpered audibly as she responded by pushing him up against the swingset’s metal frame and delving her tongue into his mouth and her fingers into his hair, frenzied and gasping. The hard metal of her locket dug into his chest almost painfully as he clawed at her hips, his fingertips grazing her thighs at the hem of her skirt, his tongue diving into her mouth, kissing and sucking and nipping anywhere he could. 

He was frantic, an addict who hadn’t been allowed to taste, to feel, to hold. It had been years—years of yearning for Serenity, for Sailor Moon, for Usagi, and he poured all his emotions into the kiss, trying to mold himself to her as if that would somehow help her remember. 

Her needy moan pierced the otherwise-silent evening as he continued his onslaught down her jaw, to the throbbing pulse point on her neck, to the swell of her breast, his fingers following wherever his lips touched, pressing, needy, reverent, his groans and gasps muffled by her impossibly soft skin. 

He wanted to never stop, to keep holding onto her and worshipping her with his mouth and his hands and his entire being. But the sun was rising behind them, and they had to leave before Tokyo woke up and some innocent salarymen and schoolchildren stumbled upon Sailor Moon and Tuxedo Mask in a passionate embrace in a children’s park. 

Slowly, he pulled away from her, both of them panting harshly. She looked up at him through half-lidded eyes, and a sigh escaped her as she pressed a finger to her swollen lips. 

Reality crashed back into him. What had he _done?_ She didn’t want to remember him, and she hated his civilian self. It was like he’d taken advantage of her twiceover. A feeling of utter disgust at himself rose up in him. How could he have been so selfish? 

“I’m sorry,” he choked out, horrified at his behavior. “I’m so sorry. I have to go.” And though his heart was still crying out for him to stay with her, to get down and his knees and confess it all, he couldn’t. He wouldn’t. 

He turned away from her and leapt off into the early morning glow. 

* * *

“She wants an overhead projector.” Kobayashi scratched his head as he relayed this information to Mamoru. “Do we even have one of those?”

It was the evening before the Yatsuya Festival, and Mamoru and Kobayashi were setting up for the next morning’s first lecturer. She was a brilliant, world-renowned cancer researcher, but she was a bit...old-fashioned. She was insisting on using transparencies and an overhead projector for her lecture, rather than the Power Point and smart board the hospital classroom was equipped with. 

Mamoru sighed. “I’ll go check in one of the storage rooms. If we do have one, I can’t imagine it’s been used since 1996.” 

Last-minute festival planning had been a welcome distraction. Strangely, things had been quiet since that early morning in Amishiro Park. Mamoru hadn’t seen her, Sailor Moon or Usagi, since then, but his heart caught in his throat and his pulse pounded every time he remembered their passionate embrace, her attacking him with her lips and him responding in kind. 

He was making his way down the hospital corridor toward the storage room when he heard voices coming from one of the exam rooms. 

“That’s the fourth person that’s been brought in today with inexplicable fainting. They’ve all had severe, sudden drops in blood pressure and blood glucose levels, but none of them remember what caused them to faint. However, all of them report having been near the Kitasato Memorial Medical Library before fainting.” 

Mamoru frowned. Inexplicable energy loss? He slipped into a nearby stairwell, conjuring a rose in his hand. Minutes later, Tuxedo Mask leapt off the roof of the hospital toward the library. The overhead was going to have to wait. 

* * *

Tuxedo Mask scanned the area around the library, his brows knitting in confusion as he noticed nothing out of the ordinary. The area was quiet, save for the occasional person passing by.

Just as he was about to turn around and leave, a great, shuddering groan came from the tall golden-hued tree by the library’s entrance. He approached it slowly. Before he had time to think, there was a flash of red and an agonized howl tore from his lips as a burst of energy engulfed him from below. 

He was trapped, gold and brown leaves swirling around him as a long-haired, kimono-clad youma spun off from the tree she’d been melded to, red eyes flashing as she raised her spindly, branch-like arms over her head in front of him. 

He gritted his teeth, squeezing his eyes shut and bracing himself for the inevitable pain. 

“Leave him alone!” 

His eyes shot open at Sailor Moon’s determined, chastising voice just in time to see her launch her tiara in the youma’s direction. Halfway through the air, the gold disc faltered and shook, and the youma easily flung it away with her forearm, giggling at Sailor Moon’s shocked gasp. 

He struggled against his bonds, desperately trying to free himself, but it was no use. “Sailor Moon!” he choked out. “Just go! Leave me and go!”

Her eyes flew to his, and he saw the determination reflected in them. Her mouth was set into a firm line, and she clenched her fists at her sides, clearly gearing up to continue the fight. 

And then her pained grunt echoed around them as the youma dove for her, squeezing her hands around her shoulders and slamming her body into the stairs at the library’s entrance with a sickening thud. 

Panic shot through him, his heartbeat pounding painfully in his throat. “Sailor Moon!” he shouted, “Don’t look in her eyes!”

But it was too late. 

Her agonized scream ripped through his soul as the youma pressed itself harder against her and held her prisoner with the same blast of golden and yellow leaves and energy that still surrounded him. 

He looked on in horror as the locket on her chest burst into pieces, pink ribbons waving wildly around her bare body in a flash before Tsukino Usagi lay where Sailor Moon had been seconds before. 

The youma released her, grinning sadistically as it rose above her, arms outstretched. Panting harshly with the effort, Usagi pushed herself up on all fours. “Tuxedo Mask! I’m— her own terrified gasp cut her off as her arm started to sink into the ground below her.

“USAGI!” he roared, his terrified, pleading eyes meeting her despairing ones. 

“I’m sorry!” she cried brokenly. “I’m sorry I couldn’t save you!” And with one final wail, the earth swallowed her whole. 

Mamoru’s screams left his throat raw, his heart howling as he choked out an unhinged, broken sob. His entire body trembled as hot, wet tears dripped unheeded down his face, his limbs still rendered immobile from his prison. 

She was gone. 

She was gone because she’d been trying to protect him. 

He had failed her. Again. 

He barely made a sound as the youma collided with him once more and pushed him into the tree, affixing him to its trunk with layers of crisp, unyielding bark. He relished the pain. Deserved it. His head fell limply to the side. Closing his eyes in defeat, he anticipated the blast that would surely end him. 

And then there was a powerful flash of white light, and his eyes shot open and his heart leapt hopefully as a loud, clear voice rang out. 

“Chestnut harvesting, moon viewing, autumn is finally here!”

He let out a choked gasp as Sailor Moon rose up from the ground, arms crossed and eyes narrowed.

“And while only medical school students would be interested in a festival with more lectures than yaki-imo, how dare you interfere with it?” 

He sobbed in relief as she finished off her speech with her trademark flourish, absolute power radiating from her, a pink and red rod clutched in her hand. The youma lunged for her, but Sailor Moon was faster. With a graceful twirl, she aimed the rod at the youma.

“Moon Princess Halation!” 

In a flash of pink and blue glitter, the youma howled in pain before disintegrating. Tuxedo Mask groaned as his bonds disappeared and he fell slack against the tree’s trunk.

Sailor Moon rushed toward him, her clear and confident eyes searching his. “Are you ok?” 

And he couldn’t help himself. He launched himself at her, still a blubbering mess, pressing her tightly to him, inhaling her hair and letting the relief wash over him and how real and _solid_ she felt in his arms. 

* * *

There had been absolutely no reason for him to ask if he could take her home. She was fine. More than fine, really. She had come back into the battle more powerful and resilient than ever. He was the one who was still an absolute wreck, who still didn’t want to leave her side after thinking he had lost her. 

But she’d accepted his offer, so, after she’d detransformed, he’d scooped her up into his arms and leapt off in the direction of her apartment, all the while anchoring himself to her as to remind himself that she was ok. Somewhere along the journey, she’d let out a contented, adorable mewl, her face scrunching up like a kitten’s, before starting to snore softly in his arms. 

He’d gently removed her shoes and laid her in bed, pulling her purple moon and bunnies comforter over her like a cocoon. Now, still transformed, he sat in a chair next to her bed, trying to calm the adrenaline that was still flowing through him as he watched her chest softly rise and fall. 

His mind floated back to the scene in front of the library. She had been stunning. 

Maybe it was time. Maybe it was time to come clean about his feelings for her, the truth about how he’d hurt her in the past and how he understood how she wouldn’t want to be with him. He felt like he owed her clear and honest communication, especially after she’d nearly sacrificed herself without hesitation for him today. 

But was that disrespecting her deeply-held wishes? He honestly didn’t know. 

Maybe he should consult with Luna about it. Shame rose up in him at the thought of confessing what had happened in the Dark Kingdom’s caverns to Usagi’s most trusted advisor. What would Luna think of him? But deep down, he knew that she would be able to help him. 

With a sigh, he leaned over and pressed a soft kiss on Usagi’s temple, resigning himself to speaking with Luna the next day. 

* * *

Minako had been shocked when she’d creaked Usagi’s door open and found herself face-to-face with Tuxedo Mask, his rumpled jacket thrown over a chair that he’d clearly placed by Usagi’s bed to keep vigil over her. 

As leader of the senshi, her guard was up. She didn’t even know if Tuxedo Mask knew she was Sailor Venus. But Luna had told her she could trust him, and Usagi was sleeping peacefully, seemingly unharmed. Besides, there was something else Minako wanted to talk to him about. 

“Coffee?” she’d asked, breaking the awkward silence, neither of them acknowledging the strangeness of the situation.

He’d nodded, and now she and Tuxedo Mask was sitting at the tiny apartment’s bright but mismatched kitchen table, two steaming mugs between them. His eyes darted around, and Minako couldn’t help but wonder what he thought of all their colorful tchotchkes and decorations, including the Scrabble letters on their fridge that boldly proclaimed _Smash the Patriarchy Now!_

She’s ok?” Minako prompted, and his eyes met hers. 

“Yes...there was a battle. She’s sleeping it off.” 

Minako’s eyebrow shot up. “You didn’t have to stay. I could have taken care of her. Or honestly, she can take care of herself.” 

He looked away guiltily. “I know that.” His tone was quiet. Defeated. 

Minako hesitated before speaking again. She’d always had a good sense for this sort of thing. And truthfully, even if she didn’t, he wasn’t very good at hiding it. “You love her.” It was more a statement than a question. 

He gave a slight, almost imperceptible nod. “I do”.

Minako’s stomach churned unpleasantly. She didn’t want to crush his hopes. But he needed to know. She took a sip of her coffee before taking a deep breath. “Look, I don’t want to hurt you. I think Usagi has grown to care for you over the last few weeks. But…” she bit her lip. “I’ve known Usagi for a long time, and though I don’t think she’d ever admit it, she’s been in love with the same guy since middle school.”

The only indication that he’d heard her was his sharp intake of breath and a slight widening of his eyes. 

“I’m so sorry I just...I thought you needed to know. I don’t want you to waste your time.” 

“Thank you for telling me that.” His tone was clipped. Distant. “I should go.” 

* * *

Minako’s words roared in his ears as he stumbled onto the roof of their apartment building. Her admission had suffocated him as he’d tried to slip the neutral mask onto his face at the same time that his heart was bleeding as he hurried out of the kitchen. 

It had all been too late. All of his memories, all of their fighting together had come too late. A fourteen-year-old Usagi had wished to be a normal girl, with normal fourteen-year-old concerns and crushes, and of course she’d fallen in love with someone who wasn’t a dead prince tied to her by destiny. 

A familiar moisture welled up in his eyes, and he crumpled to the ground, his body starting to shudder and shake as hot tears fell down his face and dripped onto the concrete. 

Who could blame her for falling in love with someone who wasn’t him?

**Author's Note:**

> Annnd…who doesn’t love ending on some Mamoru angst? Ok yes, I realize not everything has been resolved here. But I know Flora’s got a thing for open endings and stories that end with our dear Mamo-chan in tears, so I figured I’d stop things there.
> 
> So, when I reached out to UglyGreenJacket about what she thought FloraOne might like, one of Flora’s responses was “Mamoru remembers Classic during Ail and An”. So I went with that, and freaked out about halfway through writing this, when Flora told me she was writing that exact thing for the exchange. I purposely didn’t read hers until after this was done (it’s brilliant by the way; go check it out if you haven’t). What’s fascinating to me is that you can describe both of our fics with that sentence, but we took them in completely different directions. It’s like we inadvertently each gave our own spin on the same prompt. 
> 
> Also, I tried to work as many real-life Tokyo locations into this as possible. The Yatsuya festival is real, and 2nd year and above med students do study on Keio’s Shinanomachi Campus (hence the metro stops in the first scene). 
> 
> I live for reviews, so if you’re willing to drop me a line to tell me what you thought, I’d love that (especially since this is the longest thing I’ve written since my old middle school fanfic days…yikes). You can also find me on Tumblr @Tina Century. 
> 
> 1 more thing. I realized halfway into writing for our resident sexpert that there was a rating restriction for this exchange (thanks for the clarification, antigone2!) So, I’ve cut a smut scene from this, but do intend to post it sometime after this exchange is over somehow (A different chapter? A different story post altogether? Unclear, and suggestions on the best way to do that are welcome). And not to worry – that version has already made it to Flora’s inbox. 
> 
> Thanks again, all, and enjoy the rest of your autumn!


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